Hardwired
by Anne Camp aka Obi-quiet
Summary: "What's really bothering you? The fact that you killed somebody, or the fact that you killed somebody who wasn't wesen?" Because Grimms are born to kill wesen, right?


_Set at the beginning of Season 3_

The low hum of quiet conversations and rustling papers filled the precinct as the other detectives and officers went about their business. Nick Burkheart, resident Grimm, knew he could hear every single conversation if he wanted to, but instead chose to tune everything else out as he lost himself in his own thoughts.

_"What's really bothering you? The fact that you killed somebody, or the fact that you killed somebody who wasn't wesen?" _

It wasn't just what Captain Renard had said, it was _how_ he'd said it. Exasperation, annoyance, and resignation, all laced with disappointment, like he'd been expecting something unpleasant and had just been vindicated.

_"…You kill plenty of them. That's what you Grimms do, isn't it?"_

Nick felt surprised at how much that hurt, not necessarily because it came from his Captain, whom he'd begun to trust again (certainly a part of it, though), but more because it had been spoken to him from a wesen…a wesen who _knew_ what had happened on Nick's cases more often than not. This wasn't some misguided, alternate fairy-tail-believing wesen who hated him because of his ancestors' reputations, but someone Nick worked with on a regular basis and who, he thought, had understood how difficult it was to keep from hurting and killing people who seemed determined to throw themselves into harm's way.

At first he couldn't believe Renard had said that; couldn't help but feel it as a deliberately low blow because the Captain had to know it just wasn't true. He tried _so hard_ to make sure that he had _no other choice_, wesen or not. After a few days, as the initial shock and hurt had worn off, he'd started to feel defensive and resentful to the point where he'd put off some of his normally punctual paperwork to look up the evidence. He'd been determined to put a case together and prove once and for all that he may be a Grimm, but he wasn't as biased or racist as his ancestors had been!

Now all he could do was stare at the evidence report on his desktop, not really seeing it as he'd long-since memorized the data on the screen. He'd actually considered translating it to the warrant request out of admittedly petty spite towards Renard...that and it might get rid of some of the guilt that had begun to well up in his stomach.

"NICK!"

He snapped out of his daze and looked over to see Hank staring at him in concern from his own desk.

"What?" he questioned, annoyed at himself for becoming so distracted.

"You alright, man?"

Nick blinked at him for a moment before nodding and reaching for his pile of hardcopies, grabbing one at random. Maybe if he pretended to do his real job, to go about like everything was normal (what a joke), Hank might leave him alone.

"Yeah. Fine."

The dead-pan expression Hank shot him proclaimed rather obviously that Nick's statement was not believed. After a moment, the other man got up and sat on the corner where their desks met, looking concernedly down at Nick.

"Come on, man. Really."

Nick frowned. He didn't really want to talk about his feelings toward the Captain and his frustration at all the stereotypes that kept getting thrown in his face at the moment, but he knew that if Hank thought it was important enough to bring up, he wouldn't let it go. After a moment he deflated and resignedly looked over at the file he had blindly pulled out earlier and then slowly up at the information on his computer screen. The last thing he needed was to upset his relationship with Hank now too. The other detective followed his gaze and leaned forward to see what Nick had deemed important enough to have the case files on.

He must not have liked what he saw there because he frowned.

"What's this?" he asked, probably unnecessarily. Hank would know the reports on sight, and knew his partner well enough to at least suspect what was bothering him.

Nick humored him anyway, speaking softly enough only Hank would hear. "Every file involving a case where I had to seriously harm or kill someone. There are more too. Some situations don't get reported. The two reapers that came after Arnold Rosarot, Adalind if you want to count her loss of powers… Notice what they all have in common?"

Hank shook his head. "Nick—" he started, but the Grimm cut him off.

"They're all wesen. All except Mitchell Zinc—the man from the bar."

"Are you sure we should be talking about this out here?" Hank asked, glancing around.

Nick looked about as well but saw no one near them, and no one who even remotely looked like they were paying attention their conversation. None the less, he still lowered his voice even further.

"I thought I was different. I've acknowledged...I know wesen are people. They're sentient and have lives and rights. But looking at this…" he gestured to the file on his desk again.

"You killed them all in self defense," Hank said in a stage whisper, sounding exasperated as well.

"Except for Mitch—"

"Not here," Hank warned, looking around warily again.

Nick rolled his eyes. "Except for him, yeah I know. But still…I killed them, Hank. And I don't even feel bad about it anymore. Maybe Renard was right…"

"Renard?" Hank asked, confused. "What does he have to do with this?"

Nick closed his eyes at the slip and shook his head. "Nothing. I just…was I born to be a murderer? I look at all these and I have a hard time not seeing this body count rivaling any of my random, psychopathic ancestors—people who would wipe out entire, peaceful races without a second thought just because of what they are…."

Hank was quiet for a bit before he rubbed his hands over his face and let out a long sigh. "Look, man, I've come across some weird stuff since I found out about all of…this," he gestured to Nick and the pile of files before shifting his weight, leaning his arms on his knee and looking at his partner fixedly. "I don't know a lot about it, but I do know something. You're a good man, Nick, and you're a good cop. If someone died because of you, I trust your judgment. You wouldn't just kill someone without a reason."

"Not even if my subconscious is hardwired to?" Nick asked bitterly. "Because that's what this all looks like, doesn't it? How should I go about fighting that instinct that's practically bred into me? How can I fight myself?"

Hank's mouth set into a hard line for a moment before he shook his head. "I dunno, but I think you're doing a better job than I would. And you're certainly doing a better job than most of your ancestors would too. For example, my God-Daughter used to be terrified at the mere thought of Grimms since before she could walk, apparently. Now she has a crush on you." Nick's thought on that could vaguely be summed up as _SERIOUSLY!?_ Which, based on Hank's answering grin, was transmitted rather openly to his face.

After a moment, Nick felt a small smile come to his lips and he relaxed ever so slightly. He still didn't feel great about the whole situation, but Hank did have a point. Seeing that his message had been received, Hank stood up and reached back to grab his coat from off of his chair.

"C'mon, oh younger, in-need-of-guidance partner of mine. It's time to teach you that this is the type of day when we should clock out early, and go get drunk. I'll even buy you the first few rounds."

Nick shuddered and shook his head. "No bars."

Hank shrugged. "We'll stop by a liquor store. It's not like our paperwork can't wait until tomorrow, even though you have been neglecting it to the point that Wu noticed and mentioned it to me. Besides, we don't have anything else tonight…"

The Grimm looked up at his partner for several seconds before sighing and nodding in acquiescence. "Alright. I can pick up some wine for Juliette tonight."

"Anything special?" Hank asked, obviously happy to be on lighter subjects.

"Not really. I just feel like getting her something."

The other man shook his head and smiled as he got up. "I don't get it."

Nick felt a small smile come to his own face. "That's why you've been divorced four times."

Hank scowled over at his partner, jacket in hand. "Low blow, man. Low blow."

And with that, they left together, and Nick didn't even feel the urge to look back at the Captain's office to see if he'd noticed.

xXx

Beta Read by the AWESOME Kuroi Atropos!


End file.
